


i'll go with you

by scoutshonour



Series: i’m feeling better since you know me [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Fluff, Found Family, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 17:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoutshonour/pseuds/scoutshonour
Summary: "No, I mean--" Jonathan stopped himself. "Well, Hopper and Jane are usually here."Will and Joyce's faces scrunched up in thought. "Huh," Will said, "yeah, they usually are.""Jim had a late-night shift. Jane's at the Sinclair's tonight," Joyce recalled. She bent down to pick up a napkin off the floor while Jonathan and Will looked at each other and mouthedJim?(or: some of the moments that made the Hopper-Byers family a family)





	i'll go with you

**Author's Note:**

> quick note: this fic starts right after season two ends, but keep in mind that i STILL haven't finished season 2, hence any inaccuracies.
> 
> title from Twenty One Pilots' "My Blood"

Eleven hours of sleep wasn't enough after last night. Jonathan couldn't get the image of Will writhing in pain out of his mind. He woke up, sweating through his shirt as badly as he had the night before.

It didn't have anything to do with being sandwiched in between Nancy and Steve, who were equally terrible snorers. The flush rising on his neck did however, as he recalled Nancy being in in the middle last night, not him.

He sat upright and peaked at his alarm clock. It was ten am. The house was still quiet. On other days, ever since Will disappeared, the silence would've been eerie. It would've bothered him, because even on their worst days, they still had laughter, their staticky radio, and the creaking of that _one_ floorboard no one fixed that someone always stepped on when they snuck out in the middle of the night--Will for chocolate milk, his mother for a smoke, and Jonathan usually to check up on Will.

But after last night, he kind of loved it. He kind of needed it.

For a second, he could hear his brother's screams, until Nancy's cold foot brushed against his ankle, and Steve, still fast asleep, buried his head further into Jonathan's shoulder. All he could hear then were the sounds of birds chirping from outside.

He slowly and carefully disentangled himself from Nancy and Steve. He tucked his blanket further up their bodies, watching, curiously, as they drifted closer together and closed the space between them. Steve tucked his head into Nancy's shoulder and she pressed her feet against his thighs.

He expected his stomach to coil with something dark, but there was just warmth.

Jonathan tiptoed out of his bedroom, careful to avoid the creak in the floorboard. Breakfast. He could start there. There were six tweens, three older teens, and two adults that would be awake soon.

Yeah, he _had_ to start there.

"Quiet."

Jonathan nearly dropped the carton of milk in his hands as he spun around, looking at El--Jane?--and wondering how she made it into the kitchen so quietly. "Uh, yeah," he said lamely. "Hungry?"

She shook her head.

"Are you--are you sure?" Jonathan cleared his throat. He scratched the back of his head. "Last night was a lot. If you want something to drink, that'd be good."

Eleven wrinkled her nose. "No milk," she said, her lower lip curling.

"What about chocolate milk?"

She grinned. It was weird, because it reminded him a lot of Will, particularly with the...innocence was the closest word he could think of to describe her smile. He liked that despite everything she'd witnessed and had to do, there was still something soft, not yet hardened by decisions she never got to make for herself.

No, there wasn't innocence in her smile. There was life.

He had no idea what to say while pouring her a cup of chocolate milk or as he went back to making about at least ten pieces of toast. She didn't seem to mind the silence, sitting and sipping her chocolate milk, so neither did he.

Waiting for the strips of bacon to sizzle, he sat across from her, making sure he had the furthest seat from her. He was a stranger. He had to remember that. "Do you want me to call you anything specific? Like, your name? I mean--I know Mike and them call you El, but I'm not any of them, so."

She blinked. "Huh." She sounded pleased. "Jane. I like Jane."

He offered her a small smile. "Okay, Jane. Sounds good. I'm--"

"Jonathan," she said. "I know."

It was his turn to blink and be surprised. "Thanks," he said, which, _why,_ but she only nodded.

"Hey, man, why didn't you wake us up?"

Jonathan raised his head at the sound of Steve's voice. He was rubbing his eyes, standing at the entryway into the kitchen. His hair stuck up in every direction but was still artfully tousled.

"Um," was all Jonathan could say. It was a weird fucking morning.

Steve stepped inside, offering Jane a wide smile before yawning. "Nance is, like, passed out. Not literally! But she's a heavy sleeper."

"Yeah, I know," Jonathan said. He immediately regretted having a mouth the moment a wave of hurt passed Steve's face. "She also drools. Explains why your hair's wet."

Steve furrowed his eyebrows, touching the back of his head. "My--oh my _God._ Ugh. Whatever. Not the grossest thing that's happened to me this fuckin' week."

"Are you, uh, okay? Your face is like. Not great. Was it Hargrove? Did he hurt you?"

Steve winced. "You hit much harder than him." Jonathan's stomach dropped, until Steve flashed him a grin and exclaimed, "Bacon? Nice! I can make a mean scrambled eggs. Want some?"

"You can _cook?_ " He shifted his gaze to Jane, who smiled at him. "What's up? You okay?"

She took another sip of her cup, hiding her face. Jonathan realized her cup was empty. Before he could say anything, Steve hissed, "You didn't tell me the toast was that hot!"

.

.

.

Jonathan didn't really notice Hopper and Jane were spending more time at their house until a month later.

He walked towards the dining table and frowned when he saw his mother and brother. "Hey, where is everyone?"

Joyce stared, raising an eyebrow. "Am I hallucinating your brother or is he actually there?" She reached across the table to poke Will. She gasped when she touched his shoulder, making him laugh.

"No, I mean--" Jonathan stopped himself. "Well, Hopper and Jane are usually here."

"Huh," Will said, "yeah, they usually are."

"Jim had a late-night shift. Jane's at the Sinclair's tonight," Joyce said. She bent down to pick up a napkin off the floor while Jonathan and Will looked at each other and mouthed _Jim?_

She came back up, narrowing her eyes between her sons. "What's this look?" She wagged a finger between them.

"Nothing," Will said innocently.

"It's--you know, it's a look that brothers share. Of love. And fondness."

"Lots of fondness," Will continued, pointedly staring at Jonathan. He kicked Jonathan underneath the table when he sat down.

Joyce grinned. "You guys are terrible liars. I say that lovingly and fondly."

"You, uh, you miss _Jim_ being here?" Will asked.

"What? I mean it'd be nice, with him and Jane, but I don't _miss_ him."

Guess it ran in the family.

.

.

.

Tuesday and Friday became their days.

Jane rotated between the Wheeler's, the Sinclair's, the Henderson's, and their home. She spent most of her time at with Will, and then with Will and Jonathan.

The first month after she returned, everyone coming down from the horror and excitement of it all, was slow in the best way possible. Jonathan would always remember Joyce patting his shoulder, and asking, "Can you watch Jane and Will tonight?"

He didn't know why she had to ask. Maybe because Nancy was in the picture. He agreed. During lunch when Nancy asked to study at her house later, he asked her to come over to his instead.

("As if you wanted to _just_ study," he said, dropping a hand on her knee. She rolled her eyes, and leaned in to kiss him. A beat later, Steve returned to their table with a water bottle, so Nancy squeaked and loudly said, "That's how you evaluate fraction exponents."

He'd seen Nancy with a gun and an unflinching gaze, and her voice cold and dripping with venom when she said, _Let's burn that lab to the ground._ Seeing her blushing and flicking Jonathan's forehead when Steve wasn't looking because he had laughed--it felt like a privilege, seeing her at her hardest and at her lightest.)

"Will, I know what I'm doing."

"I can't believe that coming from someone eating cereal at four in the afternoon. And you clearly don't if you're putting the milk in first!"

"It doesn't make a difference."

"It makes _all_ the difference, what're you talking about?"

Jonathan bit back a grin. He wondered how long it would take for Will to realize he was only doing it to rile him up. Well, not the eating cereal during the afternoon part. He was too tired to make himself a proper meal.

The doorbell rang. Will raced to the door. Jonathan trailed behind him, and slightly stiffened when he met Hopper's eyes.

"Jonathan," Hopper greeted.

Will made an offended sound at not being acknowledged for a millisecond before he saw Jane.

She pushed past Hopper, nudging him goodbye, and smiled at Will.

"Hey," Jonathan said. He inched to the side as the pair ran inside and down the hall. "Work tonight?"

"Yup."

What was there to say? It wasn't awkward the way it was with Steve--all fumbling, trying not to sit too close to Nancy, blushing, bumping knees, and lots of stuttering. It was awkward, because Jonathan had no idea to interact with someone who understood how exceptional his mother was, and who had helped him save his brother. They had people in common. That was it.

Hopper shoved a container into Jonathan's hands. "I tried making spaghetti," he said, clearing his throat. "Your mom claimed I can only make two things, so, I, uh. Tried proving her wrong."

"Oh." Jonathan accepted the container. "Thanks. That's really nice."

"It's your favourite, so I hope I don't ruin it for you. I asked your mom what you liked. You're hard to read, but you've got good taste. I'll be back in a few hours. Thanks again, Jonathan. Jane has loads of fun at your house."

Jonathan could only muster out a, "Bye," as Hopper smiled and left. He stared at the container in his hands, long after Hopper drove away, and didn't notice the smile that spread across his mouth.

Once his feet started getting cold, he shut the door, and shouted, "Who wants spaghetti?"

Nancy arrived shortly. "Mom thinks you and I were going to the library," she explained when he eyed her backpack.

"Why not tell her we were watching my brother?"

"Oh. Well, I always do shady things with you, and I always lied about where I went with Steve. Whoops," she said, grinning at his laugh. "How are they?"

Jonathan shrugged. "Good. They're closer than the rest, I'd say. I don't know if it's--I mean, they've gone through hell and back, but I don't think that's it. Trauma can only bring you so close, you know?"

Nancy slid into the space he left open for her, humming as she nuzzled his neck. "Trust me, I know."

He kissed her forehead, buzzing with quiet content. "Hopper made spaghetti."

"He can cook?" Nancy asked incredulously. They shuffled, hand-in-hand, towards the dining table.

"Apparently, but only two meals. Maybe three. Jane thought I was joking when I said he made something, and that was enough for Will to suddenly not be hungry. You wanna try?"

"If _this_ is the thing that kills me," she said, opening the container, "I'll be so annoyed."

.

.

.

"You have marker on your nose."

Jane tried to look at her nose, until she huffed and gave up. "We were drawing. Will's very good."

"I'm not, not really--"

"Are you kidding?" Jonathan blurted. "You're phenomenal. Your drawings are unlike anything I've ever seen before."

"Really pretty," Jane added, pointedly looking at Will, "and I don't lie."

Will blushed. He slumped into the sofa, hiding his face with his hands. "Jane's the one with marker on her nose. Stare at her."

Jane met Jonathan's eyes and smiled. "Hey, Will?"

"Yeah, Jane?"

Will lowered his hands. A split second later, he gasped as a purple marker from across the room flew instantly to gently _dot_ Will's nose. Jonathan froze--was she allowed to do that?--before Will swiped a yellow marker against Jonathan's cheek.

"I've done nothing to deserve this," he complained, laughing. "You're both the worst. And you have homework."

"I don't," Jane said.

"Will does."

"That's not fair, why doesn't--"

" _She_ is bored out of her mind. You get to go to school with your friends."

"School's terrible," Will sighed.

"He's lying."

"I'm not! You hate school, you told me you'd rather die than--"

Jonathan drew a line on Will's forearm, just to get him to stop talking. They were trying to make school appealing for Jane, who had another two weeks until she could actually start her education.

It took ten minutes for them to stop drawing all over each other. Jonathan pretended to beg as they cornered him, positive that every inch of his face has been covered.

Dinner with Hopper and Joyce took six minutes before Hopper exhaled, "Alright, what the hell happened to you guys? Why?"

"Art," Jonathan answered, and they dissolved into laughter.

Hopper and Joyce shared a look mixed with confusion and endearment. "Kids," Joyce mumbled, shaking her head.

.

.

.

"Nancy, I hate this, I hate all of it, please--"

"I'm almost done! It's too late to stop. Plus, is your hair always this--this--"

"This horrible? Yes."

"We can't all have perfect hair."

"Steve," Nancy and Max groaned.

Steve snorted out a laugh. His face glowed as he watched Nancy attempt an elaborate hairstyle for Max's red, long hair. He craned his head from his position on Jonathan's couch to meet Jonathan's eyes, who coughed to subtly hide the fact that he was already looking at Steve.

“Am I right, Jonathan?”

“No,” he said, and laughed when Nancy did.

“The kids have been quiet for too long, something’s--” Nancy didn't blink when screaming and cheering sounded from a few rooms over. “Never-mind, they're fine.”

Jonathan bumped his foot against Max’s from his spot sprawled across the floor by her and Nancy. “You sure you'd rather be here than playing D&D with them?”

Max gave him an 'uh-duh' look. "Of course. Nancy's been promising to teach me a way to do my hair different, but she's always busy with you guys."

"Am not," Nancy scoffed, while Steve huffed somewhat defensively, "not _always._ " Jonathan didn't say a word. He wasn't a good liar.

"You guys are cool," she added in a smaller voice, fidgeting with her fingers. "Better than Billy, but that's a low bar."

"Is he leaving you alone?" Jonathan asked, his voice firm.

"He says about three words to me everyday. That's a good thing."

Nancy scowled. The same dark glint she had whenever she held a gun flickered in her eyes. "If he touches a hair on your head," she said calmly, "I'll kill him."

"She's scary," Steve said, "believe her."

Max smiled, but it was sad. "You don't have to say those kind of things. It's not worth it, I mean, he nearly killed Steve--"

"Hey," Jonathan interjected, absentmindedly reaching out to touch her wrist, "it is worth it, okay? It is."

She froze. He worried that he crossed a line and jerked his hand away. Before he could stumble over apologies, she said, "Thanks," very softly.

"You're much cooler than Mike," Nancy said, matter-of-fact. "But again, low bar."

"You're cooler than Jonathan." Steve was serious as he swung a leg over his own from the sofa. When Max giggled, he smiled.

Jonathan flicked Steve's knee. He didn't bother bringing his hand back down and swore he felt Steve shift closer.

"Ow, Nancy, that hurt!"

"I'm almost done, Max," Nancy said patiently.

Steve shot Max a friendly smile. "You're Max Mayfield. You can do anything. You can definitely survive Nancy's horrible hairstyling." Steve blew Nancy a kiss when she gave him the finger.

"Mom says pain is beauty, but I just think she's a pain in my ass," Max said.

Nancy snorted the type of laugh she let out when she was trying hard not to. It was Jonathan's favourite. "All I'll say is that if you want to do your hair and wear makeup, you can. But don't feel like you have to. Never feel like you have to."

For the first six months after Barb's disappearance, Nancy hid her bags of exhaustion quite well with makeup. He only noticed, because he'd seen his mom apply some for work. He knew she wasn't sleeping well. She'd admit it very quietly and he would confide that he struggled too, and that was that.

It was different now. She still couldn't sleep well and neither could he. They talked about it, but did more than that--when they couldn't sleep, they called each other. Sometimes they spoke into the night in hushed whispers and laughter. Sometimes they didn't speak, just breathed into the other line, occasionally calling the other person's name to see if they were awake. He found her loud snoring reassuring, and she once admitted his heavy breathing comforted her.

Right now, Nancy wore pink lipgloss. He knew that she wasn't wearing anything for her face, because he could make out bags underneath her eyes. But, unlike last year, she wasn't hiding it.

It probably didn't mean much, but it felt like a step forward, away from dark nights and slicing their palms to save their people and their world.

"Jonathan?"

Jonathan nearly jumped at the sound of Steve's voice. He focussed on Nancy, who was excitedly telling Max an embarrassing story about Mike. "Uh, yeah?"

"Did Will draw this?"

Jonathan leaned back, his shoulder against Steve's knee, to see the piece of paper in his hands.

"It was on the table," he explained.

It was clearly a drawing of Jonathan and Jane. Her eyes were bright and they both smiled, a textbook between them. It must've been two days ago, when Jonathan helped Jane with her math homework. Jane was frustrated. Will tried explaining it to her, but it didn't help much. Joyce was confused since she'd been taught the concept differently, and Hopper got as mad as Jane did. That left Jonathan.

He patiently explained the concept. Afterwards, when she understood, he admitted that he also struggled with it when he was younger. A few hours ago, after school, Jane showed him the red _Great Job!_ and the sticker shaped in a star that was on her quiz.

"He drew us." Jonathan clutched the piece of paper, amazed.

"He got that crinkle down."

"The what?"

"When you smile," Steve said, his cheeks reddening, "your eyes, uh, crinkle. Jus' a thing. 'S not bad or anything."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Not a bad oh, I just didn't think you'd notice?"

"Of course I would. You smile more these days. With Will and Jane and the kids and Nancy."

"And you."

"Hmm?"

"And you," Jonathan repeated. "You didn't include yourself."

For once, Steve was at a loss for words. He snapped his mouth shut, smiled--not his bright, dazzling one, but something quiet and soft instead. Jonathan had only seen it a handful of times, all directed at Nancy, and in moments he was sure Steve thought he wasn't looking.

Steve quickly recovered. "I knew you liked me."

Jonathan rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. "Like is a strong word." He caught Nancy's eye and flushed when she grinned knowingly.

Nancy cleared her throat. "You two finished flirting?"

"Are you finished damaging Max's scalp?"

Max scowled. "Steve, can you _lay off_ Nancy, for like, two seconds?"

Nancy stuck her tongue out at Steve. "Ha, she likes me more than you!"

"Max, wait, we're buddies, we're comrades. I'm your friend."

"But you're so annoying," Max said, laughing.

"Y'know what, fine. I like Dustin more than you."

"Take that back!"

"Never!"

"Children, these two." Nancy spoke to Jonathan, but looked tenderly at Steve.

At this point, he was used to the warmth he got from watching them. It was still really weird, but he's lived through stranger things.

"I'm cooler than Nance," Steve said, way too boldly.

Jonathan snorted, "No, you aren't."

"I'm cooler than your best friend, Jane."

"Again, you aren't. Have you seen Janie, she's so--what? Why are you all staring at me?"

Steve had that smile again. Nancy did too. Max grinned and was the one who said, "You called her Janie."

"So? It's a nickname, it's what--"

"Siblings do?" Nancy said.

"You don't have a nickname for Mike."

"Yeah, 'cuz what's a good nickname for Mike? Mike is already a nickname!"

"Steve calls Dustin _Dustin-o_ for some reason!"

"And we've established that Dustin's basically his younger brother. That’s sweet." Max beamed. "She deserves a nice, older brother like you."

Steve said what everyone was thinking. "So do you."

Max's eyes shone as a small, surprised smile spread across her mouth. "Instead I have a stupid one. I'm talking about you, idiot!"

.

.

.

For months, Jonathan, Jane, and Will watched their mother and father walk into love.

"Give this to Jim, honey." Joyce thrust a container into Will's hands hurriedly.

"What is it?"

"Meatloaf. He claims I can't cook it properly, so I'll show him."

Jonathan raised his head from the dining table. "Is that why you got up an hour earlier than usual?"

"Oh, don't make this into something it's not, honey, it's completely reasonable, and yes, I'm leaving right this second, bye!"

"Hi, Jane," Joyce said, beaming as she wrapped her arms around Jane.

Jane smiled, hugging her back. "Dad says your meatloaf is better, but it's still ass."

"He told me to tell you that?"

"No, but I heard him say it. He was smiling, though."

Jonathan and Will caught each other's eye.

 

 

"I'm going to fix that creaky floorboard, if that's alright."

"What, oh, that thing?" Joyce smiled, nudging Hopper with ease. "Don't worry about it. It's been there for years."

"The more reason to fix it. I don't mind. I'm here more often than not anyway."

"Yeah, but when you're here, you're too busy eating my ass-like meatloaf."

Hopper grinned. "She told you?"

"Jane is a sweet child. Definitely doesn't get it from you."

"I asked him to pass me the baked potatoes ten minutes ago," Jane sighed. She scowled at Hopper who was too busy looking moon-eyes at Joyce to notice.

Jonathan chuckled. "I've got you." He leaned over, grabbing the small container while narrowly avoiding his mother who made wild hand gestures as she recounted a work story.

"How long d'you think it'll take?" Will asked them quietly. It wasn't like Joyce or Hopper would've heard him regardless. "For them to, y'know?"

"I dunno. I think mom still needs to grieve, but they have a lot of time. No one's going anywhere."

"Not when they've been talking since forever," Jane grumbled.

Jonathan pushed the mashed potatoes towards her with a teasing smile. "Want me to put it on your plate for you, Janie?"

"I can do it."

"Last time, you spilled the soup all over the table," Will recalled, not unkindly. "I dunno how, I mean, you could've moved it with your mind, right? Before it fell?"

Jane groaned. "I was tired that day!"

.

.

.

Jane didn't do her homework until Will and Jonathan _both_ started theirs.

In a way, it was great to squash Jonathan's procrastination, but he really didn't want to start his physics homework.

"You're not doing your homework," Will accused.

"I am! I'm...thinking."

"You're falling asleep."

"You would be too if you had to do physics work."

"You chose this course, so that's your fault."

"I was keeping my options open, which was a mistake, I hate my life, and math is _terrible._ "

"See!" Jane said.

"Wait, no, don't--please? Please. For us."

Jane pursed her lips. "Radio."

They got the radio out, per her request. Jonathan could tolerate the music, really. If it meant she'd do her homework, then it'd be fine. It wouldn't be easy, but--

She switched stations. She kept going and going until she stopped at a station playing The Smiths. "Better."

It was a song from a mixtape he played repeatedly for the past week. He smiled at her, overcome with fondness.

"You guys want chocolate milk?" Will asked from the kitchen.

"SURE!"

Faintly, Jonathan could hear his brother's voice. _Should I stay it or should I go--oh no, my milk!_

.

.

.

"I'm going to fall," Steve announced.

"You're the one said we could all fit," Nancy said, raising her foot to kick him.

"Nance, I swear, if I fall, you will never hear the end of it."

"Spare us both," Jonathan said to Nancy, "and don't. For the greater good."

She narrowed her eyes and lowered her foot. "It's cozy, though."

"Jonathan's elbow in my ribs is considered cozy?"

"Wait, what, sorry, I can move--"

"Don't worry about it, it's not that uncomfortable, man, seriously."

"But you just said--"

"Jonathan, I say a lot of things."

"You do," Nancy agreed, smiling tenderly, "like, a _lot_ of things."

Jonathan laughed as Steve yawned, sending spit flying onto his chin. He didn't mind.

"I might fall asleep," Steve warned, his eyelids drooping. "Please don't draw on my face. Talking to you, Nance."

"No promises." Jonathan's voice was too soft to be teasing. He went still when Steve hid his face in his shoulder, only to relax when Nancy pressed her fingers against his wrist and Steve's nose tickled his neck.

"You're a furnace," Nancy said quietly, "He'll be out in minutes."

She was right. When Steve fell asleep, they kept quiet, but it was a nice sort of silence. Their legs tangled. Jonathan ran his fingers through Nancy's hair. Nancy stroked her thumb over his thigh. They watched the constant rise and fall of Steve's chest, and didn't tell each other how reassuring it was.

Some point after Steve's snoring deepened, she asked, "Is it weird for you that we spend so much time with my ex?"

"No," he said automatically. "Is it weird that it’s not weird?"

"Probably. But I don't mind. It's okay, Jonathan, if you--if you're--I mean, you know that, right?"

"I know," he said. He didn't, really. Relief bloomed in his chest. "You still...?"

She buried her face in his chest. “I don't think I ever stopped." She paused, maybe waiting for him to say something. When he remained quiet and just stoked her hair, a quiet ‘it’s okay’, she spoke again. "Do you think he still...?"

"You should see the way he looks at you," he said, not bitter, not jealous, just informing her of an observation that no one could miss.

Nancy looked at him with a hint of a smile. "You know how he hasn't been sleeping, well, right? And yet, five seconds all snuggled up with you and he's knocked out."

Jonathan felt hot all of a sudden, flustered under her gaze. "Nance, what're you saying?"

She shrugged. "Nothing!" Her grin suggested otherwise. "I'm only stating the truth. The sun is a star, the sky's blue, and Steve--"

"Could wake up any minute," he gently reminded her. "God, if he heard--"

"Would it be so bad if he did?"

"Nancy."

"We'll talk when it's just us two." She kissed his jaw and pressed her cold foot against his knee. "Let's have this right now. But think about all we _could_ have."

Curled in between two people he'd fought monsters with and for, he let himself want something that wasn't far away and that, for once, didn't feel unreachable.

.

.

.

"Will, there's a bandaid in your ice cream."

"Really, Jane, where--you are so rude."

Max and Jane burst into a fit of laughter. "I taught her that," Max boasted.

"Don't corrupt her." Jonathan wagged his spoon at Max, smiling.

"She's not corrupting me," Jane said defensively. "Max is cool. And pretty."

Max ducked her head. "I'm _not._ "

"Yeah, you're lame," Will said, "but you're pretty."

She sunk further and further into her seat at the booth until her head went underneath the table.

"You guys broke Max," Jonathan said, "what about I going to tell mom?"

"That she's like me. Did you know that Kali has a friend who can disappear?"

Jonathan blinked at her. "Are you serious?"

"Nope."

He sighed, relieved, though a second later, he wasn't sure why. Was it really as outlandish compared to everything else he'd seen? "Is she visiting soon?"

Jane shrugged. "I hope so. She said she'll be back in at least two months. She likes you."

Kali was cool. She knocked on their door at four in the morning, horrifying everyone. Jonathan didn't recognize her until Jane leapt into her arms. Joyce was wary at first, but she trusted Jane's instincts and Kali was also the same age as Jonathan. Plus, she knew kids who had no place to go, so she told Kali to help herself to whatever they had and if she needed a place to stay, she had one.

Kali came in and out. Jonathan wished she came more frequently. She was funny and sharp, and made Jane laugh. So far no one was really successful in that. He'd have to ask Kali for pointers.

"I'm coming up now," Max announced. "No one look at me!"

Jonathan was the only one who didn't stare at her with widened eyes when she returned, her flush still there.

.

.

.

"This is a safety hazard."

"Do you have a better idea, Jonathan?"

"No, but neither do you."

Steve rested his head on the steering wheel. "I'm going to kill you both."

"You like us too much," Nancy said, reaching out from across the front seat to tuck a strand of Steve's hair out of his face. "No matter how annoyed you get."

Steve softened. He flicked his gaze between Nancy and Jonathan. "You guys are pretty annoying."

Nancy and Jonathan looked at each other, wearing identical smirks. "Honestly, I don't know where to start," Nancy said.

"You've broken three plates at my house."

"Ooh, you always talk during movies."

"You're trying to fit nine people into your car."

"Okay," he hissed. "I get it." He honked his car. "What's  _taking_ so long?"

Distantly, from the school's entrance, Lucas shrieked, "We're COMING!"

"NOT FAST ENOUGH!"

Nancy shifted in Jonathan's lap so she could tuck her head in the crook of his neck. "Like you have anywhere else to be," she teased.

Jonathan dropped his hand to her knee absentmindedly. "I think he wants to get rid of us faster."

"You caught me. I wanna get rid of my two favourite people," he said casually, yawning into the back of his hand.

He was certain that Nancy was also wondering if Steve understood what those words did to them.

Steve had to understand, though, because Jonathan’s eyes gave him away. If Steve saw how Jonathan looked at him, the space between them wouldn't be so torturous. Jonathan and Nancy would've just crossed it by now, because casually touching your ex-boyfriend/girlfriend’s ex wasn’t weird if that wasn’t all he was.

That'd change soon. Well. Hopefully.

"Don't let Dustin hear that," Nancy said playfully. Her cheeks were pink, but not as much as Steve's. You could say it was the cold weather, except they'd been sitting in the car for nearly fifteen minutes.

"It's--it's different. Like, I'm sure Jonathan can't compare Will with you, you know?"

Before the implications of Steve's words set in, the car door flew open. "Sorry, sorry, sorry." Lucas was breathing heavily as he crawling into the backseat. "We were almost done with our project!"

"Fifteen minutes is not almost done," Nancy said, but she smiled at the sight of Lucas and started asking him about the project.

Mike came in next. "Fuck--"

" _Hey,_ don't swear at your sister," Steve scolded.

Mike furrowed his eyebrows. "You do it all the time!"

Jonathan laughed into Nancy's neck as she smugly told her brother to listen to Steve.

"Shitheads, just get in the car!"

"I won't respond to shit-head, Steve, we've talked about this," Dustin said in lieu of a greeting. He poked his head inside the backseat before climbing in. Will, Max, and Jane followed suit.

"I'm not sitting on Jane's lap," Max said, flustered.

"What's wrong with my lap?"

"Nothing! There's literally nothing wrong with you."

"Will can sit on my lap," Mike suggested. All the kids laughed, except for Will who smiled tenderly at Mike and poked his reddening cheeks.

"Seatbelts?" Jonathan asked.

Max scoffed. "Dude, there are six children here. We'll hold hands if that makes you feel better," she said dryly.

"That...that would, actually."

Lucas wrinkled his nose. "Dustin's hands are always clammy."

"You're _already_ holding my hand."

"'Cuz Jonathan said so."

"Lucas, he didn't order you to--"

"Do you want me to die, Dustin? Is that it?"

Steve groaned. "Oh my God, listen to Jonathan, hold each other's hands, so I can get you guys home safely. Your moms wanted you back by five! It's five twenty!"

Lucas pointedly squeezed Dustin's hand, waving their laced fingers at Steve with a semi-annoyed look. "Happy?"

"Yes," Dustin said, and Lucas laughed.

Jonathan waited for Nancy put their seatbelt on, since he couldn't from his position. When she remained still, he said, "Nancy! Seatbelt!"

"Jonathan! Are you serious? Okay, fine." She fastened the seatbelt over them, giving him an amused smile. "Worrywart."

"Reckless...wart."

Steve craned his head to look at each kid. "Is everyone good?"

"I have to pee," Mike said.

Nancy eyed her brother. "No."

Steve dropped Dustin, Lucas, then Max, Will, and Jane all off at Hopper's since he wasn't working this evening. Mike came last, but Nancy didn't move. "I'm going to Jonathan's," she told Mike.

"You told mom?"

"No, but you can."

Mike rolled his eyes. "I'll tell her you're at the library."

"Aw, you're lying for me?"

"I'm lying for Jonathan."

"Um, thanks, I guess?"

"You love me!" Nancy shouted as he hopped out from the backseat.

"Not voluntarily!"

Steve chuckled as Mike shut the door and ran towards the front door. As he drove to Jonathan's house, Nancy stared into Jonathan's eyes. He knew what she was trying to tell him.

She elbowed him when he could only stare at Steve.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Hey, we were wondering if you wanted to come over to my place, too? It'll be--um, you know. Just the three of us."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Are we telling secrets or something?"

"Something like that," Nancy said.

"Sounds serious."

"Kind of is," Jonathan said.

Steve swallowed. "Why am I getting nervous?"

"Dunno. You don't have to be. It'll be okay. You'll come, right?" His own nervousness must've bled through his words, because Nancy started rubbing his back.

"Of course. It's not--I mean, it's not anything bad, right?"

"No! We'd never--" Nancy cut herself off. It didn't occur to Jonathan that she might be nervous too. He squeezed her hand and her voice wasn't as shaky as she continued. "Just come, Steve. You'll see. You have nothing to worry about. Trust us."

Steve's shoulders drooped. "I always do," he said quietly. "I'm probably being dramatic. There's going to be something weird in Jonathan's freezer, and we'll have to kill it, and it'll be gross, and I'll probably ruin my clothes."

"You might ruin your clothes," Nancy said, making Jonathan let out a strangled laugh.

Steve looked bewildered, but that only made Jonathan laugh harder.  

.

.

.

Jonathan was surprised to have made it home in one piece.

His day wasn't bad, but agonizingly long. Two tests, one presentation, and a six hour shift, all in twenty-four hours. He had trouble keeping his eyes open while driving home, lucky that the roads were empty.

"Hey, you’re home!"

For a second, Jonathan wondered if Hopper was drunk. As he approached the living room, he realized that no, that's just how he sounded when he was genuinely happy.

He blinked the exhaustion in his eyes away and found Hopper, Joyce, Will, and Jane squeezed into the couch. There was enough space in the corner for him.

"We're going to watch a movie," Joyce said. She raised the already half-empty bowl of popcorn from her lap. "We waited for you."

"The popcorn's cold, but it's okay," Will added. "Extra butter!"

"Ghostbusters. Will says it's legendary."

"It is, Jane, you'll see!"

Jonathan smiled. "It's alright."

"ALRIGHT, that is a massive understatement!"

"Agreed," Hopper said, "where's your taste, Jonathan? How'd it all go to this guy right here?"

Will tutted. "And I got all the good looks too."

"Hey, your brother is handsome--"

"Ah, yes, the unbiased opinion of my mother," Jonathan said.

"He's not ugly," Jane said.

He ruffled Jane's hair as he sat in the space they left him, squished next to Hopper. "Thanks, Janie. Okay, I'm ready for an alright movie."

Joyce fiddled with the remote, Will telling her she was doing it all wrong, while Jane said she could turn the television on herself.

Hopper's elbow brushed against Jonathan's. "You alright there, bud? You can crash if you want. You've had a long day."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I mean, I _am_ ready to sleep for a decade, I'm never not tired, but I want to stay awake for this."

Hopper patted his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here," he said casually, like he didn't understand that Jonathan would tuck those words away into his heart.

He didn't say it--just smiled back. Silences still lingered between them, but they were comfortable and familiar.

Jonathan lasted fifteen minutes of the film before falling asleep. Hours later, he woke up in his bed. When he asked his mother how he got there, she told him that Hopper carried him and tucked him underneath his covers.

.

.

.

The floorboard often woke Jonathan up with its creaking.

True to his word, however, Hopper fixed it. There was still a brief moment where Jonathan thought it'd been that damn thing again, but he quickly realized it was the sound of crying that woke him.

His heart sunk. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up like this.

He crawled out of bed and walked toward the kitchen. He found his mother bent over, hands covering her face, her shoulders shaking with sobs.

"Mom," he said slowly, his voice breaking. He'd seen her cry too often this past year, but it didn't get any easier.

"Honey," Joyce sniffled. She lifted her head to weakly smile at him as she wiped her eyes. "Go back to bed."

"I'm not that tired," he lied. He took the seat next to her. "Mom, please." He touched her shoulder.

She didn't protest when he wrapped his arms around her, awkwardly at first until she buried her face into his neck. Jonathan tried not to, but he instantly started weeping. He wasn't sure who was holding who.

Minutes passed and Joyce raised her head, reaching out to cradle his face. "I'm going to be fine." she said, her hands warm against his cheeks. "I have two beautiful, wonderful boys, and Jane, and Max, and--"

"And Jim?"

Joyce laughed wetly. "Don't you start. Don't worry about me, either, okay?"

"Okay, I won't," he said. They both knew it was a lie. "I'm sorry I--I wasn't--he wasn't a bad person, but I--"

"Jonathan," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "You have nothing to be sorry for. He understood, you know? He understood."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"It's been a really shitty year."

She laughed, wiping her drying tears. "It has, hasn't it? But there are some things I wouldn't change."

Jonathan thought of the shrieks of laughter he heard from Will and his friends every time they played D&D Jane whisper-singing _darling, you've gotta let me know_ while Jonathan made her breakfast; the drawings Will left laying around the house; the scent of the jasmine perfume he gifted his mother two years ago; Hopper's pronunciation of interpret (in-ter- _pret_ ); the snort of Nancy's laughter; Steve's ridiculous, oddly-specific pick-up lines; laying next to Steve and Nancy, nothing between them except for laughter and lazy kisses.

Nothing would make up for the earth-shattering realization that monsters were real and the horrors that had followed. But if they were going to be haunted for the rest of their lives, see monsters when they were awake and asleep, then he could live with it if he lived like this.

He could bear it for moments like this.

Jonathan rested his head on her shoulder, comforted by the arm she wrapped around his back. "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> i always include snippets of the byers-hopper family, but i've never written something just for them. ofc i snuck in stoncy. i've never written this much of the kids before, so yay to trying new things.
> 
> i WILL get to commenting on my other stoncy fics, i swear! i've read them fifteen times now, and they've all made me weep tears of joy, but i will respond to them ASAP. please let me know what you thought, though! comments are greatly appreciated. thank you for reading! have a lovely day. 
> 
> come say hi on on tumblr! i'm trulyalpha. until the next fic. take care. <3


End file.
